Beautiful Strength
by skywriter55
Summary: When Thorin Oakenshield and his company enter Rivendell, they meet someone they do not expect: Talla, a girl from the race of Men who was orphaned and adopted by the Elves. At first they cast her off, but whether any of them intend it or not, she'll change their quest forever, for better or for worse. Follow their unique journey. AU, (slight) OC.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my Hobbit fanfic. As some of you noticed, I posted one a few weeks ago and took it down, because this was the one I intended to post! Sorry. This is the real story though. It'll evolve over time, and this time, Talraiwen, the main character, is of the race of Men. She is not an Elf.

I hope you love it! Reviews, dear readers, are love.

Disclaimer: I love, love, love the Hobbit. But sadly, I own nothing from the books and I own nothing of the movies. All rights to respectful owners. No copyright intended.

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**PREFACE: BEAUTIFUL IN STRENGTH**

Talraiwen crouched down behind the rock, eyes wide and focused. The Elves around her had bows drawn, much like she did, and they all awaited the cue from their leader. Lord Elrond was on the finest horse to lead his troops on the equines, waiting behind the tree cover. If someone were to look at them, they would see a bunch of blond heads and one brown head peeping over the stone, eyes blazing seriously and bows barely visible. The ones on foot were in a much, much more vulnerable position, for they were in the dry yellow grass with only small boulders to protect them. But they were super confident, for they were in their home territory.

"Are you ready, Talla?" one of the Elves asked her, nudging her shoulder.

She only gave a slight nod, unwilling to tear her eyes from the enemy. Talla ducked her head, keeping her eyes up though, feeling always like the young sister instead of a fighting partner.

The girl was set apart from the Elves, and not just because each and every one stood many heads taller than her. Her bowhold was slightly less upright, her movements less graceful, her fighting style dirtier. It was because she wasn't one of them. Instead of icy blue eyes roaming the landscape, ready to kill the Orcs riding Wargs, hers were a warm dark brown. Her hair wasn't a silky blond; it wavy and thick and it matched her chocolate-colored eyes. But no matter how the Elves appeared sleeker, her heart and intensity were stronger than theirs.

"Come on," hissed Delryon, a tall Elf who stood next to the girl. "Come on…" They were all itching for the Orcs to meet their fate. But he was practically ready to leap out of the starting gate early, which could ruin their tactic of surprise.

"Calm down," Talla whispered, placing one hand on his for an instant. "You'll give us away." Her words weren't harsh or accusing, but they were assertive.

As always, she didn't notice, because she took him to be her friend. But the rest of the Elves saw Delryon look at Talla in the way that he always did. The look was dark, dangerous, and held a twinge of possession. But a hiss from their leader snapped his head back to the field.

Something the Elves had a hard time with was that she held a high rank within them. Lord Elrond adored this girl and he knew her strength. He knew that she'd been through Hell in her life and he had been the one to take her in. And now, because she'd spent most of her short life at his right side, she held a high rank, higher than most of the male Elven warriors, even though she wasn't one of them. Even though she was a Man, and a Ranger, no less, that made no difference to the Elven Lord, who treated her like one of his own.

But no matter how much her rank confused them, she had them all wrapped around her fingers. She didn't know, of course, shy and unassuming as she was, but they all wanted to bend over to make her happy and keep her safe. She was their little girl, their sister, their prized possession. It was only at her request—no, her demand—that she fight with them. They didn't want to lose her, but she didn't want to sit back. She wanted to help protect her adoptive family.

They were so focused on the Wargs that they didn't see the last of fifteen heads slipping behind a rock into the secret entrance into Rivendell. But the girl saw it, having an almost-perfect sense of the area. And for so long, that spot had been her secret entrance. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, wondering if the stress and adrenaline of danger was making her hallucinate. She'd seen one dark blond head, then a dark head, and then a longer head of hair jumping down. But at that point, she had no time to think about it, for Elrond shouted, "Now!" in the Elvish tongue she could understand but could not speak.

The ones on foot vaulted over the rock and raced alongside the galloping steeds, silent and lethal. The girl was just as fast as them and was the first to let an arrow fly, piercing an Orc that was standing at the entrance she'd hallucinated people going down. He fell, then rolled, as she ran past and strung another arrow. She didn't bother to look where the vermin fell, barely registering his inhuman shriek.

Her small, booted feet were running fast, nearly blurring with the speed of her body. All of the yellow-and-gray landscape blurred too. She raised her bow and was sure in her next shot, but the arrow flew slightly lower and instead killed a dog, not the rider. The Warg fell with a whine, catapulting the disgusting creature into her. Talla yelped as the Orc crashed into her and knocked them both to the grass. It immediately drew a sword, ready to plunge it through her chest, but she smartly flipped over so she was on top of it. She pinned down his hand with her left and punched it with her right. The creature screeched furiously and used his strength and height to flip her back down. She struggled, thrashing from side to side, but it was no use: its beady black eyes fixed on her with a grin. It forced her head uncomfortably into the ground as she struggled. "You will die, Elf-girl!" it rasped. This language she understood too, the black language that they spoke. Her heart raced with her mind as she thought of a way out. There was no way she could shoot or use her sword now- she'd have to use her tricks.

She let her body go limp, completely still, daring not breathe. With her face pressed into the grass, she waited, waited, waited. Those seconds felt like a year as she wondered if the monster had bought her trick. Its raspy breathing slowed above her, and then it chuckled.

That was her cue. She flipped her body up, catching it by surprise to throw it off, and in its shock it tumbled back with a shriek. She had been so sure that it was over, but it got back up with surprising quickness. That was how Orcs were built and trained, though. They were harsh, they were dirty, and they were killing machines. Unwilling to be murdered after such a trick, the girl head-butted it with all the strength she had. The Orc was fazed for long enough that Talla could take its sword and stab it through the chest.

She turned back to the fight, exhausted but pleased. While she'd been grappling with her street-like style of fistfighting, the others had done their thing by easily out-battling the Orcs. However, some had gotten away. They all stood and breathed hard as they watched the Wargs rushing out of sight, over the hills that marked the edge of the Elven territory.

Panting, the girl began to regroup with her fighting section. As she was heading for them, something in the grass caught her eye. It looked like a branch of a tree. She furrowed her brow in confusion. The only trees around this field were about a mile from here. She crouched down at her secret entrance to Rivendell, at the exact spot she thought she'd seen the people jumping.

The item she dug out of the grass was a bow, heavy and lethal. It was her first reaction to discard it, but she realized that it wasn't the bow of the enemy. She ran her fingers over the dark wood. Not a normal reaction, but she thought the weapon was beautiful in its strength. Lord Elrond rode over to see what she was fixated on. His eyes softened when he saw that she was unhurt, and he was a bit chastising when he saw the mark on her white forehead that she received from the head-butt. Even though the Elves had tried to break her non-Elven fighting style, it was ingrained in her.

"This bow wasn't made by an Orc," she murmured, handing it up to him. The Elven Lord grasped it and hefted the beautifully crafted piece in his hands. He assessed it for a moment, confused, as the realization dawned on him. Even though Dwarves had not entered his lands tor many years, his memory didn't fail him. A refuel smile lit his face.

"Nor was it made by any smith among Men." He offered her a gloved hand, which she took. He hauled her gently on the horse and turned to trot towards the rest of his echelon. "You'll soon see, Talla." With a gentle hand, he pulled the bow she'd found over her shoulders so that they could bring it back without danger of it falling.

"Are we to follow them?" asked the same Elf who'd been griping about the battle starting. He was still glaring at the spot where the Orcs had disappeared. Delryon was foolishly always ready, too ready, to throw himself into a fray. The others glared at him. They didn't want to fight again.

But thankfully Lord Elrond shook his head. "No. They are beyond our reach now. Let them run back to their master; perhaps they will deliver the message that Rivendell is not a place to be." His main concern was for the wellbeing of his beloved people.

The cocky Elf gaped like a fish, but no one could question Elrond. The rest of the foot-groups were offered spots on horses to ride back from the victory into their home. They rode in single file, with Lord Elrond taking the front, and another Elf bringing up the rear. The scenery that passed was breathtaking: the waterfalls, the white castle-like structures, and the lush plants that looked like a fairy tale.

Elrond's sole hunch turned out to be correct. His Elf-eyes found Gandalf the Wizard and the group of Dwarves standing at the entrance to the High-house. He smiled and then cocked his head and whispered to the girl, who was seated behind him, "Can you sense it?"

"Sense what?" She looked up at him, hair flying in the wind and tangling in the bow across her back.

"We have guests," he told Talla with a semi-smile. "These are creatures you have not seen before."

She asked, "Where are they?" Her sparkling eyes searched futilely ahead, looking for the new prospects.

Before an answer could come, Delryon pulled along stride the Lord's horse. "Be careful," warned the possessive Elf. "Don't let them near you. I know these creatures." He was only speaking to the girl seated on the horse, paying none of the greeting respect the Elves displayed for Elrond.

Elrond looked over and then increased the pace of the horse, clattering first onto the bridge to get away from him. Talla's dark, wavy head was ducked down, protecting herself from the strange vibes emanating from Delryon.

Loud shouts echoed in front of the horses, startling the girl. She froze and clutched the back of Elrond's robes before she leaned around him to catch a look at the ones speaking a deep, guttural language. "Close ranks!" she heard shouted out in the common tongue. There was a group of men that looked small compared to the steeds that they rode, brandishing weapons that were heavy-set and certainly lethal. They were all clearly the same, with large, muscled bodies, but easily identifiable by weapons, attire, and hair. As they clattered even closer, it was apparent to Talla that these were the mysterious visitors. And mysterious they were.

The one who caught her eye was the small man who was the only one not brandishing a weapon. Crushed in the middle, e had a curly head of light brown hair and a shell-shocked expression. Talla realized with a shock that he was a Halfling, a Hobbit. She'd only heard of them in old tales and stories, and even in such tales they'd had a minor role compared to the heros. On another sharp circle, he caught her eye and his expression changed from shock to question, as though he wanted to know what the problem was. She shook her head because she was just as confused. This tiny band of people surely wasn't a threat, were they?

Talla felt an ancient emotion in the air, one of competition and anger. She kept flicking her eyes and head back and forth, looking back and forth between everyone as she tried to make sense of everything.

Once the Elves stopped circling, Lord Elrond broke into a huge grin. "Gandalf!"

"Lord Elrond," responded the gray-clad man with an equally large smile. Lord Elrond swung off the steed, leaving Talla to grapple with the reins, and landed smoothly to stride over and embrace one of his oldest friends. Talla was so fixed on handling the large stallion that she lost track of the conversation until Elrond said, somewhat pointedly, "Something—or some_one_—has drawn them near." Talla immediately raised her eyes again, tugging by accident on the horse's reins in her agitation. She didn't want a fight, or any hard feelings.

"That may have been us," admitted the Wizard. He looked abashed to have brought such a thing down on Rivendell. His blue eyes locked on Talla for a moment; she blushed and remembered her manners to duck her head in respect for her elder and higher rank. He smiled back but both of their attentions were diverted when Thorin Oakenshield stepped forth. His jaw was set as he tried to assert his dominance.

Lord Elrond stepped up, sweeping back his sword and his robes. "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." He was welcoming to the Dwarf, but the latter wasn't buying it.

"I do not believe we have met," he muttered.

"You have your grandfather's bearing," he insisted. "I knew Thrain when he ruled under the mountain."

Talla's head was spinning as she looked back and forth, trying to figure out what was happening. She knew nothing of Dwarves and knew nothing of this Thrain they kept speaking of. None of the Elves ever spoke about it.

Delryon muttered, "Underlings." His dig was referencing that they were creatures that lived underground, and thankfully they didn't hear it. But Talla did. She whipped around and the look on her face was hurt. She didn't like that he was being rude to the guests, who had done nothing to earn their disfavor. As all the Elves often did, they took inspiration from her and shut up.

Even as Talla was confused, she saw the tired, weary, hungry desperation about the Dwarves. She saw the passion burning in their eyes and the pride that was being degraded with every second that passed in Rivendell. That was just her passionate way, to notice the all-around good in people, no matter the race.

Thorin Oakenshield's sharp blue eyes had gone flat. "Indeed." He cocked his head to the right, a tiny bit insolently. "He made no mention of _you._"

The Elves all gasped, shocked, but Talla had to turn to the side and shield her face with her hair to hide her small, shy laugh. She wasn't pleased that Elrond had been insulted in his own home, but the Dwarf's quick retort was just a stroke short of genius, and she was sure that he wasn't being malicious on purpose. Her shoulders shook in spite of her attempts to stop the laugh of appreciation. Gandalf saw it, though, and he once again met her eyes and smiled with a friendly wink.

Elrond wasn't angry. He simply murmured something in Elvish that Talla guessed meant something like, "Let us feed our guests."

Since the Dwarves didn't know anything that he'd just said, they tensed again. "What is he sayin'?" yowled a red-haired Dwarf. "Does he offer us insults?!" The Dwarves surged forward all at once, ready to be angry and to battle; the Elves all tensed again; Talla was once again lost in the middle of an angry tornado of feelings, in a situation that looked likely to explode at any given moment.

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AN: Thanks for reading, my awesome people! I love reviews. Reviews, dear readers, are love. I may not update on a usual basis, because I'm the busiest person on the planet right now, but don't worry! This is my favorite story and it will continue to take top priority.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Thank you so much for reading! I love it that you're taking the time to look at my story because I love writing this so much. Please keep it up! Also, I'll update when possible, but my word, I'm busy as all hell. Don't lose faith though, because I will never not update. Trust me. (Yeah, good English, I know. "Never not." Ha.)

Now something I wanted to get across is that yes, Talla is young and shy, but she's strong, she's smart, and she can kick ass. Keep that in mind!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything of the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Any dialogue taken from book or movie isn't an attempt at copyright infringement. All rights go to the amazing J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.

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**Chapter Two: The Scar Underneath**

The situation was fiery and tense for one moment more before Gandalf hurriedly stopped the impending explosion. "No, Master Gloin," he muttered, looking slightly abashed. "He's offering you food." The wizard spoke like he was talking to a child, making Talla and Elrond give him side-glances filled with warning from the first and amusement from the latter. But the Dwarf didn't seem to care as his expression flicked from anger to eagerness.

Talla couldn't help but stare on with her signature shy smile as the Dwarves paused and turned around to confer with each other. At the mention of food, it seemed like each of their minds were wiped and filled with only that. Even the head one, Thorin, turned his head back to confer with one Dwarf who was particularly frightening. When Talla saw him, the smile on her face slipped and her brown eyes went wide, with both admiration and fear. He had tattoos across his skull, portraying a story perhaps, and his muscles far outranked those of any people here.

"Well," rumbled the red-haired Dwarf. He looked once to his leader, who without even looking back, knew he was looking for the okay. Thorin dipped his head slightly and Gloin continued. "In that case, lead on."

Talla observed even closer the bonds within the group. Even though none of them really looked alike, they were family. That much was clear from the protective glares they threw at the Elves and the way they knocked their fists on each other's shoulders and arms. They could communicate without talking and all but read each other's minds. They were a real family like the one Talla wished she'd always had.

Lord Elrond turned and led them to the dining area with Gandalf at his side. At the last moment before Lord Elrond disappeared up the stairs, he looked back and motioned for Talla to follow them. He wanted her to meet these creatures above everyone else- because he knew that she would not be eager to deal out judgment.

Talla nodded once to show him that she understood and then leaped lithely off of Lord Elrond's white horse. She handed the thick finely crafted reins to one of the Elves who hovered behind her. They discussed for a few minutes which stall the horse should be sheltered in and the correct feed for the steed. Her easy nature and friendly eyes made it easy for anyone to converse with her. So the words they exchanged were genial. The Elf smiled at her subtle humor and kind grins.

"I think he's tired," observed Talla, rubbing under the horse's bridle. The steed nickered and nudged her hand. He was still breathing hard, flecked with white sweat.

The Elf nodded, agreeing with her. "What do you think is the best thing for us to do with him?"

She tilted her head and thought of the horse stalls. They were pretty, large, and very nice, but she didn't think he should have all the room to run around and wear himself out more. She said, "Just brush him and then put his blanket on. I think he's deserved a nice rest."

They finished their conversations with Talla giving the white horse an affectionate pat on the leg. When the turned back and attempted to head for the stairs, Delryon moved his horse in front of her. The girl jumped back, alarmed. He looked startled and then furious. "You're not going to dine with them, are you?"

She looked up at him, confused. "Lord Elrond told me to go."

He urged the horse closer to her, forcing her to step back. "Don't. I know them. They're dangerous."

Talla was finally provoked past her easy, kind nature. Her face switched into a defensive glare. "You don't know anything about them! And I can take care of myself." After her short burst of anger, she felt a little guilty but she wasn't about to apologize. Delryon was frozen as she turned on her heel and fled up the stairs, following the Company that had passed a few minutes ago.

Just before she crested the stairs, she heard another Elf snap, "Let her be, Delryon."

Those words made her want to stick out her tongue at them. She wondered briefly why she was defending these fourteen men she'd never met or seen in her life. It was as if they had a connection, one that was deep inside her and couldn't be broken. But her thoughts were driven away when she saw the scene in front of her. Her eyes went wide and her jaw practically hit the floor. .

It was a full-fledged food fight. There were napkins tossed around in mayhem, Elves taking cover, and the Dwarves in the middle of it all, singing and laughing and yelling. Their antics horrified most of the inhabitants but once Talla processed it she started laughing right along with them. She'd never seen such disarray and it was fascinating. Instead of dining being a solemn, proper occurrence for the Dwarves, it was a time to be rowdy and egg each other on. She witnessed clearly the biggest Dwarf pouring his drink into the ear trumpet of a more elderly gray-haired Dwarf. Instead of being annoyed, the older Dwarf put the end of the ear trumpet into his mouth and blew, sending a wave of liquid over his companions. They all shouted and banged on the table in approval. There was a Dwarf actually standing on the table, belting out a song in a surprisingly attractive voice, and the rest of them were echoing his words.

The girl stood frozen, intermittently shocked by the scene and laughing. Talla spotted Lord Elrond and wove her way through the chaos to reach him. She was forced to step over flattened food, napkins crumpled on the ground, and even a few pieces of the silverware were bent on the stone. When she found her way to him, he had a shocked look on his face. He turned to greet her, looking like he'd just found out the most horrifying secret in the world. That was probably a reaction to the scene.

"I was going to ask you to lead them to a place to sleep," he muttered in her ear. "But the show isn't over."

Talla clapped a hand to her mouth, trying to hide the smile, and her sparkling brown eyes saw the wizard. He was sipping water and looking away, attempting to look innocent, but he looked properly abashed. He chanced a look back and found her raising her eyebrows at him, trying to tell him that she, at least, found them to be quite sociable. The wizard raised his own graying brows in agreement just as the Dwarf on the table stopped singing. The group seated cheered raucously in appreciation. Talla noticed that while the lead Dwarf didn't sing along, he raised his drink to the singing one.

Lord Elrond rose and said, rather shakily, and announced, "You are free to find a place to sleep." Then to Talla, he murmured. "Let them find their own way. If you like, you should go practice your shooting."

The girl nodded eagerly and traipsed back down the stairs, intending to slide by the group unseen lest she be pelted by flying food, but one of them spotted her and shouted, "Hey!"

She stopped and turned, wary of the tone of voice he'd used. It wasn't friendly but wasn't enemy-like either. It was the youngest Dwarf, dark-haired with a scruff and an eager, bright-eyed face. But he was staring at her, not matching the innate kindness his face embodied.

"That's my bow."

Talla reached behind herself and her fingers found the heavily crafted wood. She'd forgotten that she was bearing the weapon and she immediately pulled it from her back. He stepped closer and reached for it just as she offered it to him. "I found it where you came in," she said as explanation, looking him in the eyes and then looking down, bashful. The Dwarf grabbed his weapon, and, casting her off as an Elf-maid, he didn't offer her a word of thanks before following his people.

Talla stared after him for a moment and sighed before turning and jumping down the opposite way, over a white railing, to head for the river and try to shoot for practice. Lord Elrond sighed and rose from the table, placing his white napkin down in tandem with the wizard.

Gandalf nodded to where the girl had disappeared. "Who is she?"

Elrond walked with him and swept around a corner. There were many beautiful hidden areas of this land. But he didn't have to lead Gandalf; he knew these lands almost as well as the Elves did.

The Elf responded, "She was orphaned in the burned village of Raronuk. When Orcs overran it, they killed her family." They curved a harder right and stood over a balcony where they could see the girl standing, shoulders slightly slumped, pulling her own bow from over her shoulders. "The only thing I could do was try and save her. She was gravely wounded; we just barely got to her in time. I got too attached and just had to raise her here, with us.

"She's trained here with us ever since then. She still embodies the Men, though."

"How do you mean?" Gandalf's wise-sounding speech was answered with a nod from Elrond.

Gandalf watched with expert eyes as he saw her raise the bow and line the bottom of the arrow up with her mouth. She took one deep breath, two, and then let it fly. The black arrow pierced exactly where it looked like she'd been aiming. But more than the fantastic shot, Gandalf noticed that her bow was tilted down, that her shoulders weren't erect like the Elves', that her movements weren't fluid. He slid a look over to Elrond, asking the silent question. The Elf just tilted his head knowingly, solemnly, and they continued on.

A plan, small and barely plausible, was forming in the swift mind of the wizard. "What is she like?"

Lord Elrond's face softened into one of clear adoration. "She's definitely one of a kind. You can't imagine, Gandalf, the balance I see in her. She's absolutely an amazing fighter. She's fierce and she would do anything to protect us. But Talla's still so young, and she's the kindest being I've ever had the pleasure to meet."

"Is that so," Gandalf rumbled, walking with a slight push, a slight pep in his walk now as his idea culminated. He wisely chose to move off of the topic, because Lord Elrond was fiercely protective of Talla, but still he thought and thought and thought.

Meanwhile, the Dwarves were cautiously entering the room where they were to stay. Each one threw down their packs and stood, unsure of what to do in this land with the white walls and shining essence. To the ones who'd seen great Dwarven kingdoms, this was such a harsh contrast that they didn't know what to think. They were the ones who ached for their great halls of stone. But for the younger ones, who had never seen their own homelands, Rivendell was simply a beautiful place full of their enemies.

Bofur broke the silence by saying, "We showed them a proper good time." His usually cheeky smile was on full-blast now.

Everyone rumbled their agreement and some laughs broke out, rowdy, trying to reduce the stressful mood. The only ones who stayed solemn were Thorin and Dwalin. Their eyes flickered about, assessing, ready to protect if anything should happen.

Kili was the last to toss down his bag, for he was indignant that the girl who he thought to be an Elf-maid had been in possession of his beloved weapon.

"Did you see that Elf that had my bow?" he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

Balin looked up with some of the others. "That, my lad, was no Elf."

His face crinkled in confusion. "It wasn't?"

Thorin glanced over at his elder as he said, "No. That was a girl from the race of Men."

The leader seemed intrigued by this news. "How could you tell?"

"She isn't like them. I think she and I may have crossed paths, long ago. I can't tell if it's her- it depends."

Thorin crossed his arms and Dwalin looked over, suspicious. "When would you have possibly crossed paths with a girl living in Rivendell?"

Balin gave the king a knowing look. "She was a child in the village of Men we used to labor in." Thorin's eyes saddened for a moment at the mention of their time in exile, but Balin pushed forward. "Do you remember, Thorin, the village that got burned by the Orcs?"

Thorin's face was stone, eyes expressive, when he nodded.

"She was the girl who we saw being taken. She's the one who they took away."

"The young one who would follow us around and ask to hear stories?"

Balin nodded. Then he remembered something and said almost to himself, "She was the one who I gave the carven model of Thrain to. And I also gave her the wooden pendant that was the Arkenstone."

Thorin cocked his head and rested his arm on the head of his axe, which was leaning on the ground. He had made that little Arkenstone pendant himself. "But the Orcs would have surely killed her. They don't take prisoners." His solemn, throaty voice was a clear reminder that he assumed his father to be dead.

Balin, also feeling the loss of Thrain, shook his white head. The other Dwarves were hanging on this story, every word of it. This was something just between the other two that they'd never been told of. "That's what I thought too. But when they took her away, she was still alive, even though they'd cut her throat." Thorin winced, not liking the mention of such a horror against an innocent. "And I think I saw the scar underneath her chin- a white-and-red scar."

They all met gazes, wondering how to find out. Kili was the only one still thinking when Bofur burst back through the doors, hoisting bottles of wine and sausages in victory. They all shouted and yelled and lit a fire right away. The greens hadn't been enough for any of their huge metabolisms.

But Kili sat, eyes locked on the fire without seeing, and thought hard of her. Not any random girl could evoke the softer sides of Thorin and Balin. She had to have been amazingly charismatic to have pulled the secret Dwarven stories from the two of them. And also to be in possession of the likeness of the Arkenstone: the pendant. No doubt Thorin would never let that be given to someone he didn't like or trust, even if she had been a very small girl at that time.

The young Dwarf managed to slip away as the fire was being started. No one noticed, but he and Bilbo were missing as the festivities began.

Bilbo wandered off to look at the majestic land he couldn't have dreamed of, but Kili went off in search of the girl. He, above all of them, wanted to figure her out. She hadn't enticed him when he'd first seen her, but her traumatic past invoked in him a need to know and a need to discover.

He only had to look around Rivendell for a minute before he caught sight of her in the waning light of day. She was crouched alone by the river, clearly practicing her shot. Kili moved slightly to hide behind a pillar and watch.

It was obvious to the Dwarf now that she wasn't an Elf. Her body was built more like theirs, with power in her legs and shoulders. Her dark hair and clothes blended in instead of trying purposely to shine out. And when she let the shot go, the dark hand-made arrow flew straight and deadly to crush into a tiny target of moss in the rock wall next to the river.

Kili made a noise of appreciation before he made his way down the white stairs to get to her. Usually he wasn't shy with meeting others or anything of the sort, but he wanted to gauge her reactions in various aspects of things. If she was this young girl from the past of his uncle and Balin, then they'd want to meet her again for sure.

He looked for three telltale signs: the pendant, the figurine, the scar. But first thing was first. Kili knew his smarts and he knew his cunning, and he knew how to exercise them without looking like he was exercising them.

"You shoot upright," he said semi-loudly as greeting.

Her reaction startled him. He'd been ready for a sharp retort or a slur, but she whipped around, eyes wide in shock, and simply offered him that same shy smile. Her white teeth glimmered in the lowering sun and Kili just caught a glimpse of two slightly pointed teeth at her canines before she spoke.

"Living most of your life with the Elves gets you eventually," she said in a soft, pleasant voice. Her quiet humor and neutrality gave Kili the heads-up: she was easy to work with.

Her waves ruffled in the wind as they faced each other for a moment. Kili took that time to assess her.

She was wearing boots almost like theirs. Hers were a light tan and had black laces, and tops that were fringed with soft black-and-white fur. They looked to be almost too big for her feet. Going into the boots were black leggings that were meant to be easy to move in and to blend with the darkness; a dark olive shirt curled around her muscular frame. A bow that almost looked like his dangled from her left hand; she'd obviously made it herself. None of the shiny Elven-bows for her.

Meanwhile, Talla was also assessing him. She kept waiting for their fiery anger and their harsh reactions that the other Elves awaited, but they just kept looking fun and easygoing. There was no aggression in Kili's stance, no darkness in his eyes, just a playful glimmer that soothed her frayed nerves. She stuck out the hand that wasn't holding her weapon and offered it to him

"I'm Talla."

He grasped her hand and shook it. "Kili."

She dipped her head slightly after they released their hands. He appreciated her class and respect. There was nothing about her that repulsed him or any of the others, unlike the Elves, who gave them the creeps. But that didn't solve anything. She could just be a random, polite girl living in Rivendell. He had to know who she was. He was about to ask her to move her head, or to so something that would let him see the acclaimed scar, but a rustling in the bushed behind them made her head snap up.

He saw first confusion, then shock, then a plan formed in her chocolate-brown eyes. He was stunned when she knocked her smaller body against his and threw him out of sight just as another Elf strode into view. Kili landed in a crouch, engulfed in the soft green leaves of a bush. He immediately didn't like the way the Elf-man approached her: aggressive, harsh, and domineering. But she held her ground with surprising strength, hardening her eyes so that she was giving him a glare of frost.

"What are you doing down here, Tally-girl?" The girl scowled, upset by that nickname. "I thought you'd be with the underlings by now."

Kili was tempted to jump out and throw an insult back, but Talla's gaze pleaded with him to stay put. She narrowed those stunning eyes at the other Elf, making sure that her height deficiency next to him didn't make her look weaker. "I told you already, don't call them that."

"Why not?" The Elf stepped closer, getting in the girl's space. She was forced now to basically tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. "Why do you protect them like this? I can't understand it."

"You can't understand much, Delryon, and it's not up to me to throw it into perspective for you. In simple words, they've done nothing against you. If you're still blabbing about the old story of Erebor—"

Kili perked his ears up and peered out of the bushes harder while making sure that his body didn't rustle any leaves.

"—then you should probably understand that it was the Elves who abandoned them. It was _you_ who decided not to help those who were allied with you."

The girl's strong and confident words fostered a kinship in Kili that he felt warming the place in him that was cold from entering this place. He felt almost like she was a little sister to him.

And this newfound urge made him want to run out and stand up to the Elf whose nose curled up in an ugly snarl. "You're siding with them? They were in the wrong! They did it—you know what? If I ever got close enough—"

He started walking past Talla, but the girl grabbed his arm and made him turn back around. Their two silhouettes looked almost comical backlit by the moon, with the much-taller figure being jerked around my little Talla. "What?" She looked scared and stunned.

Delryon's eyes were burning. "You heard me, Talla."

Talla's eyes widened in her pale face before she glared even more harshly at him. "You will not get close to any of them." He opened his angry mouth to protest but she beat him to it.

"That was an order."

Kili was so startled by her proclamation that he stayed openmouthed in the bushes long after the Elf swept away. So not only was this girl of the race of Men, and not only was she free of race-hate, but she also had a higher rank than the Elves in their own home? He was only jerked out of his reverie when the girl popped her hand into the leaves to help him out. "You're in the clear now," she insisted with the playful half-smile of one who had to explain what happened. He took her hand and used their mutual leverage to pull himself off the ground.

The Dwarf raised his brows at her, demanding to know what had just passed, and she sighed. "He hates you. He hates that I like you."

Kili raised his brown brows, playful, hoping to pull the slight fear from her eyes. "A little bit of possession?" He stepped forward, indicating that they should walk along the gray stones lining the river, and she complied.

She sighed and pulled a hand through her wavy hair. "Why would I busy myself with stupid things like that? There are a lot more things to think about. Better things to waste time with," she concluded with a grin.

After a little while of walking, the girl opened her mouth and then hesitated. "So…" She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Why are you here?"

He threw her a side-glance. She hurried to backtrack. "Not that it's a problem! I have nothing against you! I'm just curious."

She could practically see the wheels turning in Kili's head. He was wondering of what to say; if he should lie. Thorin would probably have his head if he let it slip what they were doing here, but he also didn't want to blatantly tell a falsehood.

"I don't know if that's something I should just blurt out," he admitted.

Instead of pushing him for more information, the girl nodded. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't make you say it. You're probably feeling cornered in here."

Now Kili thought this girl was funny, smart, but also kind and compassionate. He snuck a glance over at her, smiling at the river, her face almost glowing in the light of the brilliant moon. The sound of rushing water was soothing, comforting. They walked along in amicable silence for a couple of minutes, content to just walk, the two races brought together by this early stage of friendship. If it could only be so with the Elves and the Dwarves.

For Talla, this walk was nice because while the Elves were nasty, the Dwarves were also in the wrong. They were just as hostile but in a less obvious way. This Dwarf, Kili, was the youngest, and maybe that was why he held no harsh animosity, but she liked it. She didn't have to worry about proving herself. She could just relax and share the company of someone who was a real personality.

And Kili marveled in the fact that he, too, could relax. Some of the Dwarves thought he was on the mission only due to the fact that he was related to Thorin. He didn't want to be the weak, naïve one: he wanted to be a fierce warrior, on par with them. He wanted to live up to his family name and make his uncle and brother proud. He was also terrified of what was to come: to face down the dragon Smaug to reclaim their homeland. For now, though, just for the few minutes, the girl wouldn't judge him. They could just shut up and let the silence do the talking.

After a little while, Kili remembered his objective: look for the scar. Still trying to be sneaky, he leaned closer to her and pointed across her face up at the moon. "The view here is great, huh? Look at that."

This wasn't just a ploy. Kili would never admit it, especially to his kin, but he thought it was beautiful in Rivendell. There was something in him that the others teased him for, for not having that usual Dwarven feel about him. He did his best to try and belie that, but sometimes it didn't happen.

However, the ploy worked. The girl tilted her head up and away to look at the moon. Sitting there, on the crease of her jaw and neck, was a thick scar, red-and-white. It stretched across the entire expanse of her neck.

As soon as he saw it, Kili caught hold of her arm, shocking her, jolting her back to reality. "It is you!" he said excitedly. He didn't know why he was so excited but he was. There was a tie here directly between this girl and the two Dwarves he revered most, and maybe it would be a good thing to reunite them. Maybe it would make them more at ease in this place.

He was tugging her along, back up the way he'd came, when she ground her feet into the dirt, bringing them to a stop. "I'm who?" Her eyes were wary now.

Kili paused. "Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

He huffed impatiently. "How you got that scar. And your necklace."

The mention of the necklace narrowed Talla's eyes. "How did you know about my necklace?" She kept it hidden from the Elves, for she wasn't sure what it was or what it represented. She only knew that it was rougher, rugged, and it was very important to her.

The pendant was made from dark wood; oak, she thought, and had small green stones and silver etching around it. It looked like a rock or a jewel of some sort.

Kili gave her a knowing look and tugged on the arm he was still holding. "Just come on." His eagerness was catching.

Bewildered but willing, Talla let herself be dragged through Rivendell. Kili eagerly marched up the stairs to try and enter the place where they were all seated, but a shout echoed across the vast expanses of Rivendell. "Talla!"

They both stopped dead. Talla pulled her arm from Kili's grasp at once and started walking away. "That was Lord Elrond." The Dwarf stopped, wondering at whether or not he should still try to convince her to go with him. She had her head turned, looking up at one of the balconies. He could now see the scar as well as a dark gray chain of small circles together that he suspected held the acclaimed pendant. But she had to go. She quirked her expressive eyebrows and said, "I'll meet up with you later, alright?" She started to walk away in her boots before she turned around and added, "Stay away from Delryon as well. He's insane."

They shared a grin before parting ways.

Talla tried to point out where she'd heard his shout coming from and went up to the highest balcony, where she did indeed find him. Surprisingly, he was standing with the wizard, the Hobbit, and Thorin and Balin. She dipped her head to the wizard, Elrond, and Thorin before extending her hand to the Hobbit. He hadn't been shown any normal forms of greeting or protocol since leaving Bag-End and he was relieved by it.

"I'm Talla," she said by way of greeting.

He met her grasp with a surprisingly confident shake. "Bilbo Baggins."

She nodded agreeably at his politeness and once they let go, she crossed her arms, hugging her middle, and leant on one leg to wait. There seemed to be a standoff happening. Talla also tried to ignore the intense stare from Balin. He had recognized her.

She _was_ the tiny girl who he and Thorin had met in Raronuk.

She _was _the girl who had the figurine of Thror and the wooden likeness of the Arkenstone.

Talla was taking these few moments to assess Thorin. He was bison-like in appearance, strongly muscled and handsome with a fur pelt that covered his broad shoulders. A dark blue cloak was cinched around his waist with a beautifully detailed belt, covering a silver-plated armor of sorts. His boots, like all the others', looked like they could kill with one swift kick. The last thing she noticed was that his arms were ensconced in some sort of protection. They were black, hard-shelled things that wrapped at his wrists and went up his entire arm.

Overall, the Heir of Durin was regal, and very handsome. But his face was really what caught her attention.

Thorin Oakenshield had a very strong-boned face with a mighty forehead and an air about him that commanded attention even when he was motionless and silent. He had long, flowing dark brown hair that was streaked with gray, showing the age that his face and prowess kept hidden. A beard, though very short, was on the bottom half of his face.

And he had the most expressive eyes that Talla had ever seen. Even if he kept a straight face, she _knew_ that his eyes were the way to see into his heart. Even when he was straight-faced now, staring at Elrond defiantly, she could see the goodness in him. She saw need there too—but she couldn't figure out what it was for.

Thorin spoke first. "Our business is no concern of Elves."

"For goodness' sake, Thorin, show him the map." Gandalf's voice was authoritative and strong.

"It's the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect."

Talla's head spun as her head went back and forth between the two. What map? What legacy?

Gandalf huffed. "Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves! Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in front of the one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!"

Talla and Bilbo's eyes met, bewildered. But Thorin's stone-set face didn't change. Talla thought he would just stand there until he reached into his vest-like cloak and pulled a worn piece of parchment paper. The girl strained to see what it said, but it was surprisingly written in a language Lord Elrond had been trying to teach to her. Balin looked at the king and said, "Thorin, no," but the younger Dwarf pushed Balin's arm out of his way to hand the map to Lord Elrond. He offered it like he was giving the most precious thing in the world.

Watching him, Talla saw an intensely deep-set pride in Thorin Oakenshield. His chin tilted up in defiance and those amazingly blue eyes had gone flat. She thought again that his eyes were the window to his heart. And she knew that he was good. But now, here in this situation, he was angry and defiant.

Elrond looked up, shocked. "Erebor."

Talla's ears perked up while she tried to keep the interest off her face. This must have been the whole purpose, to have Elrond read the map. But what could they want with the lost city? The riches were long stolen by Smaug. Their sacred halls had been desecrated, no doubt, by the evil creature. Erebor was lost.

Thorin's eyes flattened further as Elrond asked, "What is your interest in this map?"

The Dwarf-king went to speak, but Gandalf beat him to it. "It's mainly academic. Contains hidden text." Thorin looked at Gandalf in thanks and the wizard gave his infamous knowing look.

Talla's eyes flickered around. She knew the wizard was lying and suspected that Elrond did too, though he made no inclination.

Gandalf was asking with a smile, "You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?"

Elrond took the map and unraveled it further. Then he proceeded to hold it up to the moonlight and found something within. Strange, muttered words came from his mouth. Gandalf sighed and said, "Moon runes. Of course."

Bilbo's eyes, caught in the dappled light, looked to Gandalf in question. The wizard explained swiftly. But the Hobbit still looked mystified.

Elrond's intelligent face was intent on the paper. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." He turned back around to face the Dwarves and Bilbo. Gandalf waited with baited breath. Talla kept watching the scene. Again, Thorin's deep-set eyes were blazing with intensity.

Thorin seemed to take a deep breath and he asked, "Can you read them?"

Elrond looked down at Talla, who nodded up to where the most dramatic of alcoves stood, underneath the lip of a mountain with the waterfall cascading over the gap. There stood a pedestal. They all filed out, with Bilbo and Talla taking up the rear. For now, Thorin and Balin decided to wonder about the girl later and focus on the task at immediate hand.

Talla hissed to the Hobbit, "What's going on here?"

They fell back enough that he could answer without being conspicuous. "If you really want to know," he muttered back, "I haven't the foggiest idea." She laughed at that quietly and they caught up to the others. The scene was truly spectacular: moonlight filtered through the water and threw patterns on the black rocks that were white in the blazing rays from the moon. The overall effect was dreamy, almost like they were asleep and had thought up the place.

Elrond placed the map on the pedestal and nodded at the sky. "Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight." Moonlight burst through the clouds at his words and sparkled over them. Silver letters suddenly sparkled from the page, causing Bilbo's eyes to widen. Lord Elrond, Thorin, and Gandalf stood at the stone; Talla hung back, unsure of what to do. She stood next to the Hobbit, who stood next to Balin. They waited with baited breath.

Entranced, Thorin unknowingly shifted closer to the Elf and stared at the page like it was his lifeline. Elrond placed his fingers on the runes and read from them.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks," he read clearly. "At the setting sun, the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole." At this, Elrond picked up the map and furrowed his brow, like he couldn't believe what he'd just read. Thorin leaned forward, one hand on his chin, thinking hard.

"Durin's Day?" the Hobbit asked Balin. Talla echoed his question by leaning forward around Bilbo so that she could also hear the answer.

Gandalf turned to answer. "It is the start of the Dwarves' new year; the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter."

Thorin had turned away slightly, still thinking hard. "This is old news," he murmured, turning back to Balin. A slight panic showed in his eyes. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

Balin rushed to pacify Thorin. "We still have time." He stepped forward.

"Time?" Talla and Bilbo asked together. They exchanged a glance before Talla spoke again. "Time for what?" Her eyes were drawn together in confusion. This mystery was gnawing at her; she wanted desperately to know what this was all about, where they were going, what they were doing, and what all of these mysterious innuendos were.

Balin extended his hand, telling her to keep quiet for the moment. "To find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot, at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

Realization smacked Talla over the head and her mouth dropped. She knew of the dragon Smaug that lay asleep in Erebor, who guarded his plunder and would continue to do so until the day he died. These Dwarves intended to enter the mountain and challenge the deadly beast.

These creatures were both prouder and braver than she'd originally conceived. They must have been hell-bent on reclaiming their homeland, if they were going to try and reclaim it from a malevolent dragon. They must also be completely dedicated to the exiled king she stood before. She slid her gaze to Thorin, who met it with his chin slightly ducked. There was power in him but also the humility of one who knew that it was probable he would fail.

Thorin saw Talla's flabbergasted reaction and knew that the Elf would figure out too what they had planned. He dropped his arms and squared his shoulders when Elrond asked, "So this is your purpose, then, to enter the mountain?" There was no animosity, just sharp surprise, and Thorin was defensive.

"What of it?" he challenged in his low voice.

Elrond rocked forward slightly on his feet and said, "There are some who would not deem it wise."

Thorin reached for his map and snatched it back, keeping his eyes locked with those of the Elf. "What do you mean?" queried Gandalf. His icy blue eyes were intent on the Elf. Talla saw that even if Gandalf was helping the Dwarves, he had a strong alliance with Lord Elrond and he respected him to the utmost degree, like most people felt for the Elven Lord.

Elrond leaned closer to him and muttered, "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-Earth." He turned then and went back the way they came. Gandalf tipped his head to the girl and followed the Elven-Lord, leaving Balin, Thorin, Bilbo, and Talla standing by the moonlit pedestal. She sighed and leaned back on her heels, pulling a hand through her dark mane of hair.

Now that they had the information they wanted, and now that the Elf was gone, they could focus on the girl. Balin walked over to stand on Thorin's right-hand side and they stared. Thorin's gaze was sharper, more questioning, while Balin's was warmer and welcoming. After a moment of looking at where Elrond and Gandalf had disappeared to, she felt their intense gazes burning holes in the left side of her face. She turned to meet them with wariness and trepidation, wondering why the intriguing strangers were practically ogling her.

"Talla, it's my pleasure to see you again," said Balin. She opened her mouth to respond but then her face switched to question.

"Do we know each other?" She tried once more to get an answer from the Hobbit, as if he would know, but Bilbo was also staring at her. Talla was used to attention but not so directly. It made her uncomfortable. Especially with the extremely blue, extremely direct gaze of Thorin, she felt like she was under intense inspection.

"Don't you remember?" Balin asked eagerly, motioning to her neck. She reached up to touch her scar and her eyebrows knitted together.

"How I got this?"

"No!" he insisted, impatient now, much like Kili had been earlier. "Your necklace."

The girl touched the chain and followed the short length down to the pendant. Slowly, she pulled it from her collar and cupped it in her hand, making sure that the Dwarves could see. Thorin sucked in a sharp breath, causing Talla's eyes to snap up nervously. She couldn't understand his intensity. She didn't know what the dark brown, silver, and green thing was supposed to mean. She didn't even know why she had the pendant, only that she wanted it with her all the time.

Balin smiled. "I knew that you were the girl."

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End of chapter

AN: Alright, I know this is kind of dragging on, but I'm pushing to get to the good stuff! Really, I am! I'm really excited to write Goblin Town, and I have a trick for that up my sleeve… That should be chapter four or five, I'm guessing. But hang in there. Up until that point it's interesting too! More character development to come, I know I've kind of left it out a bit. And more Thorin, Fili, and Kili.

Okay. So if you have questions: Balin and Thorin, in this story, worked in the village of Raronuk. Thorin, and Balin especially, played with Talla because she loved them as a little girl. Balin made the little Thrain figure and Thorin made the little Arkenstone thing. I just wanted her to have some connection to them, because if she just randomly loved them, it would have been weird. I've got plans, dear readers. Great plans.

Also, I tried to describe Thorin well. It's so impossible to capture him as a character, though! He's got a lot of layers inside that great mind of his that I can only begin to fathom. I think that Richard Armitage did the most amazing job with his character, and if you watch the Hobbit behind-the-scenes stuff like I do, then you'll notice that I took some of RA's thoughts of Thorin into direct consideration and will continue to do so. I do it because RA is extremely intelligent and he brought the character to life in a way I would have never thought possible. Hats off to him!

Review, follow, and favorite! I'll update ASAP.


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